


if i'm going down i'm taking you all with me

by amomo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Multimedia, Passive-aggression, Siblings, batfamily, damian and jon are BFFs, everything is an ordeal, milk is important, the waynes are petty and dramatic, unnecessary drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 09:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12504408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amomo/pseuds/amomo
Summary: The Batfamily Group Chat is used for three purposes:1) so Bruce can collectively tell everyone to stop it2) Tim can send everyone memes easily3) everyone can lie to each other about their eating, sleeping, and general healthWho would have thought it'd be the second one to tear this family apart?AKA everyone makes fun of Damian, Bruce finds out, and then they all proceed to rip each other to shreds.





	1. Whodunit???

Tim was having a pretty good week, which explains why shit hit the fan so quickly. And okay, so _maybe_ he had some part to play in that, but Tim knew the universe was conspiring against him. And the universe had finally won. It was over; they had finally killed him.

 

Or at least Bruce was going to when he found out what happened.

 

Speaking of which, Tim estimate he still had between thirty to forty minutes before Bruce realized what happened. That was plenty of time to get out of the country. Maybe Tim would go to Milan, they had good coffee. Or maybe Mumbai. He’s never been before and it would be a good place to lay low. Before Tim could finalize his choice, his phone buzzed. A text message. From Bruce. Uh oh.

  


Tim gulped and hastily sent a thumbs up. Okay, he could do this. He’d just have to play it cool. Bruce said dinner, which meant others would be there too. Tim needed to plan this out; find a good strategy.

 

Alfred, who loved Tim and would undoubtedly stop his murder, right? Best to compliment his food and show up on time. Dick, probably. He’d be a good at mediating. Cass...useless to Tim. She’d laugh at his demise and say he brought this upon himself (which wasn’t entirely untrue). Jason...Tim was sure Bruce sent him a similar text but actually getting him to come was another story. Duke would throw Tim under the bus in a heartbeat if it meant escaping unscathed and Tim respected that. Damian of course was the _entire reason_ this was happening. So in short, Tim’s allies were limited.

Time to call in the cavalry.

Tim shot a quick text to Stephanie.

Tim wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

* * *

 

It was almost 6:30 when Tim and Stephanie arrived. Through the front door for a change. Even used a key.

 

“If you get murdered can I have your sweaters and coffee machine?”

 

“You’re supposed to make sure I _don’t_ get killed.” Tim gave Steph a withering look. She ignored him and touched up her hair in the entrance mirrors.

 

“Look, Timmy. I love ya and would sacrifice my life for you during heated battle against killer robot dragons or something. But this is _Batdad_ we’re talking about. Nothing gets in the way of Batdad and justice.” They stared at each other for a moment.

 

“You can have my sweaters but bury me with my coffee machine.”

 

* * *

 

Jason’s usual thoughts when Bruce tried to get him to come to the manor were somewhere along the lines of ‘ _fuck that shit’._ But like _hell_  he was missing this clusterfuck. So at 6:25 PM he burst through the doors to Wayne Manor and headed for the dining room.

 

Predictably Dick was already there, sitting across from Cass.

 

“Hello, little brother.” Cass looked up at him with a slight smile.

 

“I didn’t think you were coming.” Dick said looking straight ahead.

 

“Aw, and miss the show?” Jason grinned, pulling up a seat to Dick’s right. Dick glared at him but he looked more worried than angry. And maybe once upon a time Jason would have been worried too, but he had since learned that riling up his family was more productive. Duke walked into the room, paused to look at them all, shook his head, and then at down to Jason’s right.

 

“This is _not_ going to be good.” Cass just smiled, Dick let out a sigh, and Jason grinned at Duke. Poor kid had no idea.

 

Tim, followed by Stephanie, entered the dining room shortly after. Tim sat next to Cass, and Steph next to him. Jason raised an eyebrow at Steph.

 

“I heard Alfred’s making butter chicken.” She looked Jason in the eyes. “I hope it’s spicy.” Jason set his jaw. So that’s how Tim’s playing it huh?

 

“You’re hair looks nice.” Cass said peering over Tim to look at Steph. She smiled putting her hand up to it.

 

“It does, doesn’t it?”

 

And for a minutes all six of them sat in silence staring at each other, every once in awhile. Dick with exasperation and mild panic. Cass, simply with unbridle amusement. Duke looked like he was ready to make a run for it any minute. Jason look at Stephanie than Tim, trying to figure out what those two trolls had planned.  

 

Before he could though, Bruce walked in, face stoic. He silently sat down at the head chair of the dining table. Damian was, expectedly absent. Bruce probably asked Clark to ask Jon to invite him over.

 

Alfred came in shortly after and began plating dinner. No one said a word. Alfred did raise an eyebrow, but no comment.

 

“Thank you for preparing dinner, Alfred.” A murmur of thank you’s followed. Bruce looked at each of his children, scanning them. Eventually everyone began to eat, in silence. What a sight they were.

 

Seven vigilantes all in a room, all staring suspiciously at each other, waiting for someone to make a move. No one did. After fifteen minutes of unbearable silence, Alfred came back in to pick up the now empty plates and promptly left. It was pretty obvious that Alfred was not about to be dragged into their family drama anytime soon.

 

The tension was suffocating them all. _Finally,_ Bruce spoke.

 

“I’m sure you are all aware why we are having this dinner.” He looked over them all, as if waiting for them to challenge him. No one did. “There has been some... _inappropriate_ behaviour going on.” Everyone stared directly ahead, not saying a word.

 

“It will not be tolerated and I expect that from here on another issue such as this will not arise. Correct?” Bruce’s children all looked at each other, before silently nodding. _Damn it,_ Jason thought. He was expecting more of a scene.

 

“Now, I want to know who started all of this.” _Ah, there it was_.

 

Naturally Dick was the first to speak up. “Bruce, it was a _joke—_ “

 

“Who. Started. It?”

 

“It was not me.” Cass, playing the innocent favourite. Typical.

 

Tim cleared his throat before saying, “If you think about it, it wasn’t really _any of us_.”

 

Bruce did not look amused. “Oh really? So _none of you_ decided it would be a good idea to tease your younger brother and take advantage of his innocence?” Jason rolled his eyes.

 

“Innocence? He was raised an assassin. He was stabbing people before he could ride a bike.”

 

“ _Can_ he ride a bike?” Duke asked. It was a fair question, really.

 

Dick frowned, “I think so...I mean I’ve never seen him…” Stephanie let out a giggle, thinking of four year old Damian on a little tricycle in Nanda Parbat. Bruce snapped his attention to her.

 

“Is this funny to you Stephanie?” Steph’s eyes widened slightly.

 

“Of course not!” A sly grin, “I think it’s very important that we teach Damian how to ride a bike. I still have my _My Little Pony_ bike with training wheels.” Bruce’s veins were starting to pop out. Jason could see why Tim brought along the blonde terror. As much as it pained him to admit, she might be better at raising Bruce’s blood pressure than he was. Bruce inhaled sharply and let out a slow breath.

 

“Back to the matter at hand. Which one of you was it?”

 

“Does it really matter who? We wo—”

 

“Tim did.” Eh, Jason was getting bored. He wanted to see some drama then leave. Roy broke his DVR alright?

 

Tim shot a glare at Jason who took a sip from his water with false innocence.

 

“Timothy. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Tim clenched his jaw.

 

“It wasn’t me.”

 

“Really? It wasn’t? That’s not how I recall it.” Jason leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

 

“You did send that meme…” _Way to go Duke_ , Jason thought smugly, _join the fray_.

 

“It was _just_ a meme! Jason’s the one made it into a thing.” Oh no, he came here to watch the drama, not be blamed for it. Bruce took a deep breath before letting his head fall to the table.

 

“Yeah, Steph agreed with me!”

 

“No I did not. I just said your argument had merit. Besides, this is Dick’s fault.”

 

“What? _How_?” Dick spluttered indignantly.

 

Tim shrugged easily, “You should have stopped it there. You let it continue.”

 

“ _Oh!_ So _now_ it’s my job to get involved with everyone’s shit?” Damn, Dick was getting worked up. “Every other time I try and get involved in my family’s life and then it’s ‘Go away, Dick!’, ‘stay out of my business, Dick!’. When’s the last time I got more than a two sentence response from you Tim?”

 

“I always respond.” Cass said, still looking amused. Jason simply scoffed and rolled his eyes. Dick turned his attention to Jason.

 

“That includes you Jason.”

 

Jason raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

 

“You’re always refusing to spend time with your family, but you show up today?”

 

“Well if this is the treatment I get—”

 

“Not everything is about you,” Tim cut in.

 

“Then why are we even talking about me?”

 

Dick scowled at him, “Because would it kill you to make an effort Jason?”

 

“Make an effort?” Jason turned to face Dick better, “You’re right, I should hang out with my _amazing_ big brother more often. I can’t remember the last time I did...Oh wait, I do. _January 2012._ ” Dick blanched at that. Tim frowned. This didn’t feel like Jason’s usual ‘I died’ argument. So what was he planning?

 

“First snow of the year. Remember, B? I slipped on some ice at school and fell.”

 

Bruce’s head snapped up. “You fractured your arm.” Bruce frowned looking between his two elder sons. Dick turned his attention to the curtains.

 

“Well, guess what, Bruce? I didn’t slip in fall at school. In fact, I wasn’t even _at_ school.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. Dick shook his head.

 

“Are you really bringing th—”

 

“No, no! You dear son, Richard convinced me to skip school so we could go sledding, And of course Dickhead over here doesn’t know shit about physics so went flying straight into a tree and ta-da, broken arm for Jason.”

 

“You took him out of school and broke his arm?”

 

“Oh my god, it was an _accident_!” Dick threw up his hands,. “You,” he turned, pointing a finger at Jason, “were supposed to keep it a secret.”

 

“I like to think dying cancels out the statute of limitations on pinky swears.”

 

“Pinky swear? You were nineteen, Dick.”

 

“Shut up. Tim.”

 

“You two _lied_ to me?”

 

“Dick made me!”

 

“Only because Jason doesn’t know how to steer a freaking sled!”

 

“Oh I’m sorry. I never learned as a kid because I was too busy being homeless—”

 

“Enough!” Bruce shouted. “This is _not_ what we came to discuss.”

 

“Oh right. You’re here to punish us because we’re forcing you to parent Damian.” Stephanie held her head up high, not about to be perturbed.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“She’s right. This is _your_ fault.” Tim stated.

 

Bruce blinked. “How is any of this because of me?”

 

“Well,” Stephanie stood up. “I think we need to go back to the beginning. How this all started…”

 


	2. The Unofficial Roast of Bruce Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What went down and how Everything Is Actually Bruce's Fault.

Steph was having a pretty normal week. Wake up, go to class, take a nap, study, fight crime on the streets of Gotham, hate herself for not studying more earlier while beating up some punk, go home, sleep, repeat. But damn, Friday decided to up-the-anti.

 

She was in the middle of mindlessly highlighting notes when her phone _pinged!_ Steph’s eyes were starting to sting from the glare of yellow highlighter so she welcomed any distraction. And _damn_ what a distraction.

 

 _Oh my god, Tim._ Steph literally fell off the bed, Her eyes were comically wide and she tried to breathe again. A sound between a laugh and shriek escaped her mouth as she fumbled to respond. The group chat continuously _pinged_ as everyone responded immediately. Steph tilted her head back wiping tears from her eyes. Oh this was a good day. Until it wasn’t.

 

Steph stared at her phone, eyes locked on the newest message.

“Well, shit.”  


Steph looked at her screen a bit longer, praying for someone else to respond. But dead silence. Tim, the little shit, responded first announcing his exit. Jason with the unhelpful advice, naturally.  Steph just sighed. She got up grabbed her purse and coat and headed out the door, typing a response. Might as well enjoy some waffles, last meal and all that jazz.

 

* * *

  


“As you can see from the evidence, this one is on you Bruce.” Stephanie placed her phone on the table, screenshots opened. Bruce sent her a withering glare, one that showed his regret for ever allowing her to step foot into his house four years ago.

 

“Not following, Boss Man? Guess I’ll make it a bit clearer for you, _World’s Greatest Detective_.” Stephanie pushed her chair back in, scooping up her phone. If you would all kindly follow me to the evidence viewing room.” Everyone looked blankly at her. Stephanie sighed. Hopeless, they were all hopeless. “Batcave. Five minutes. Be there, kiddos.”

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, everyone did show up to the Cave. Dick didn’t know what Stephanie had planned, but knowing her, it was probably something ridiculously good. He leaned against the back of Tim’s chair as Stephanie spun around in Bruce’s chair in front of the monitor. Bruce’s eye twitched.

 

“Good! Now that you are all here, the presentation can begin.”

 

“Presentation?” Duke asked without getting a reply. Dick let out another sigh, wrapping an arm around Tim and setting his chin on Tim’s head. This was going to be a long night.

 

“If you would all turn your attention to the monitor.” Steph pressed a few buttons before the main screen displayed a powerpoint.

  
  


Jason snorted, Dick let out a sigh, and Bruce clenched his jaw.

 

Bruce sent yet another glare towards Stephanie, “You made a powerpoint before you came here?” Stephanie blinked at him.

 

“Of course not, I’ve had this for ages. After careful observation I’ve come to the conclusion that no matter the scenario, the reasons why everything is your fault Bruce boils down to three main factors. We will now look at factor one.” Stephanie clicked a button on the keyboard and the slide changed.

  
  
  


Jason titled his head back laughing and wiping away tears. Dick tried his best not to smile but was unable to as Stephanie made her way through the bullet points.

 

“I just needed a laser pointer, Bruce. Damian and I were playing with cats. And all you did was look at me and say _‘Batgirl, this is no time for silliness. Don’t you take anything seriously? Oh gosh I miss the days when my sidekicks would listen to me. Ugh, I’m going to go brood and look over this heavily polluted city and probably destroy my lungs in the process. Farewell!_ ’”

 

“That was a spot on impression Stephanie.”

 

“Thank you, Dick.”

 

“Is that it?” Bruce asked, regretting just about everything.

 

“Um, of course not. On to factor 2!”

  
  


“You needed _two_ slides for my personality?”

 

“This is the shortened version. I have an entire folder full of powerpoints explaining your personality.”

 

“You _do_ overwork Alfred,” Tim agreed.

 

“Does Alfred even get paid?”

 

“Onto, the final factor!”

  


This one was met with a round of cheering and claps.

 

“Preach, Stephanie.”

 

“I never seen a greater truth.”

 

Bruce looked like he was a second away from having an aneurysm. “ _How_ does any of this explain why it’s my fault you all brought up inappropriate matters with Damian.”

 

“Oh B-man, must I really spell it out for you?” Stephanie let out a dramatic sigh. “If I must. Okay A) Batsuit, if you didn’t dress like a giant vigilante furry no one would ask if you’re a furry and this entire situation would never exist in the first place, B) if your personality didn’t suck you might have actually talked to Damian about the freaky stuff that goes on in the world and the meme would never be an issue because we all would have just had a good laugh instead of turning it into a _thing_ , C) the therapy, if you had gotten some the previous two factors would never exist and again neither would this entire situation, so in conclusion, it’s your Batsuit wearing, emotionally repressed, therapy needing, ass’ fault.” Stephanie inhaled sharply, not once having stopped to take a breath. Everyone turned their heads to face Bruce. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“No more post-patrol desserts for two weeks. None of you will be patrolling tonight. I expect the group chat to be kept age appropriate and everyone stop teasing Damian. You can all leave now.”

 

“Well that was anticlimactic.” Jason said after everyone had made it back upstairs. It was nearly midnight by now and everyone decided to call it a night and go to sleep. Come morning the whole situation would be forgotten, Bruce would have a terribly awkward conversation with Damian when he returned from his sleepover at Jon’s, and the Wayne family’s unstable peace would settle over them once again.

 

Or so they thought....

 

* * *

  


Damian was not happy with his siblings. How dare they treat him like some ignorant child? It had been a week since The Incident, but Damian was not about to forgive any of them anytime soon. No, he was carefully planning his revenge. Damian smiled, a little evilly, thinking about all the ways he could get revenge. He would show them he was not some immature infant.

 

“Hey Damian, do you want _Super Berry Blast_ or _Pink Lemonade Funtime_?”

 

Damian turned to scowl at Jon who held out two juice boxes. Damian grabbed _Super Berry Blast_ and stabbed in his straw. “Can’t you see I’m thinking?” Damian sipped his juice as he stared out the window in the Kent’s apartment in Metropolis.

 

“Thinking about what?” Jon hopped onto the counter stool next to Damian.

 

“Revenge.” Jon paused to blink at Damian.

 

“You know most kids your age don’t do that.”

 

“Most kids my age aren’t trained assassins and superheroes.”

 

“Who _wronged you_ this time?” Jon asked kicking his feet back and forth. Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Perhaps Jon was part of the reason his siblings continued to treat him as a child...No matter Jon would be a valuable ally in the future and Damian would exact revenge on his siblings and they would never dare to disrespect him like this again.

 

“My siblings of course. Although Father also minorly betrayed me but I am willing to be lenient with him as he has to deal with those morons.”

 

“So you’re going to get back at them?”

 

“Yes. But my revenge won’t be swift nor painless. I will not show mercy, Jon.”

 

“I feel like you’re overreacting…”

 

“Overreacting Jon? There has not _been_ a bigger show of blatant disrespect. My infernal siblings will rue the day they decided to target me for their amusement.” Damian took a large sip from his juice box, glaring out the window. A moment of silence passed between the two friends before Jon spoke again.

 

“You sound like Lex Luthor when he threatens my dad.”

 

“Would you like to be on my Revenge List as well, Kent?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian is plotting his revenge and his family is none-the-wiser.


	3. Bitch You Thought???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's Revenge Plan is Activated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is heavily based off my interactions with my siblings when we fight

Damian started small. First, there was never enough milk left. Only enough to fill three-quarters of a cup. Next, nearly all the good outlets miraculously stopped working, forcing everyone to charge their phones in the same location. Also all of Tim’s fuzzy socks may have holes in them now. Dick’s hair became knotted and tangled when he tried to comb it. Cass’ favourite shows kept cutting out; must be something wrong with the station. Jason’s windows and doors kept getting stuck when he tried to open them. Stephanie’s favourite waffle shop was closed for renovations. And of course not matter where any of them were going, they all got every red light.

 

Slowly over the course of one week, Damian’s siblings’ (and Brown’s) nerves were on edge. Slight annoyances, all seemingly isolated incidents, had taken their toll.

 

Damian had to keep his glee under control; he couldn’t let his siblings catch on now. He, of course, acted as unaware as possible during breakfast that morning. Dick slammed the refrigerator door shut, putting the near-empty milk carton on the counter.

 

“Who keeps drinking all the milk? What am I supposed to put on my cereal?” Dick’s hair was sticking up in odd directions. His favourite comb was just get stuck in his hair no matter how many times he brushed it.

 

Tim glared at him from the counter. His phone was charging extremely slowly. “Put in freaking coffee creamer for all I care.” Cass silently bit her toast. Todd came in beelining for the fridge.

 

“What are you doing here?” Dick asked, pouring coffee creamer into his cereal.

 

“Mornin’ to you too, asshole.”

 

Cass let out a tired, “Don’t fight. Too early.”

 

“My damn refrigerator stopped running in the middle of the night. I need some— _milk_ !.” Jason scowled at the pathetic amount of milk left in the carton and glared at them all.  He sat down at the counter after grabbing some water and toast instead. Duke walked in next, not even bothering to look for milk. Damian heard him mutter “ _You guys are billionaires and can’t even buy a gallon of milk…_ ” under his breath.

 

Phase One was running smoothly. No one suspected him of anything. Damian finished his breakfast and headed down to the Cave for some training. Phase Two would commence shortly.

 

* * *

 

 Dick was having one of those weeks where nothing seemed to be going right. Dick just wanted to sit down and be comfortable. He had been trying to push through it but this was the last straw. Dick stomped through the halls looking for his first suspect. And there he was…

 

Jason hummed quietly to himself as he headed for the library to put back a few books he borrowed. He was not expecting a seething Dick to pin him against the wall.

 

“What the hell, man?”

 

“I know it was you, Jason!” Jason rolled his eyes, not at all perturbed by the forearm pressing against his larynx.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

 

“Look, I don’t have time for this. Why don’t you just tell me whatever it is that you think I did, in which case I can deny it and leave.” Dick scowled at him. And here Jason thought he was being kind by not clocking him in the jaw…

 

Dick released his hold on Jason, crossing his arms instead. “You ruined my favourite sweater.” Jason blinked. _What?_

 

“That’s what got you to finally snap? After all those rooftop fights and years of me threatening your life, a goddamn _sweater_ is what makes you lose it?”

 

“It was my favourite sweater, you jerk.” Dick sounded dangerously close to pouting.

 

“Okay. Well, I did not do that, so... goodbye.” Jason turned to leave but Dick yanked him back by the wrist.

 

“So you ruin my clothes and don’t even have the decency to fess up? I always thought you had more honor than that, Jason.”

 

“First of all, we both know that I have zero honor. Second of all, what are we, sixteen-year-old girls? I didn’t ruin your sweater.” Dick took a step back, raising his hands in surrender.

 

“Okay.” Jason raised an eyebrow at his seemingly calm brother.

 

“Okay? That’s it?”

 

“I’m not mad that you defiled me sweater—”

 

“ _Oh my god_!” Jason threw up his hands.

 

“I just want to know why” Jason clenched his fists and turned to face his brother.

 

“I didn’t ruin your fricking sweater. Because even if I did take some _hideous_ sweater,” Dick let out a gasp, “from your tacky, abomination-of-a-closet, I wouldn’t ruin it. And if somehow I did, you sure as hell would not find the evidence.”

 

“ _Hideous?_ ” Dick put a hand on his chest, unironically of course. “How dare you? In my own home nonetheless.”

 

“Are we done yet?”

 

“No! Not until you admit what you did.”

 

“For the last time, I didn’t touch your fucking sweater!”

 

“Could you two keep it down?” Tim glared at them, hair disheveled, the bags under his eyes looking dark and heavy. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

 

“It’s 3 PM.”

 

“I haven't slept in four days and I’m pretty sure I’m going blind in my left eye.” Jason forgot how pathetically sad Tim’s life could be. So would the kid really mind if it got a little worse?

 

“Sorry, Tim. But Jason mutilated my sweater and won’t confess.”

 

“I didn’t do it! In fact, it was probably Tim. He’s always taking everyone’s clothes.”

 

“Excuse you, I do not.”

 

“You’re literally wearing one of my sweaters right now.” Dick pointed to the loose grey number Tim was sporting.

 

“Well, I probably didn’t ruin your sweater.”

 

“Probably?” Dick raised an eyebrow.

 

“I mean, what sweater are we talking about here…”

 

“My favourite. Y’know the blue one that’s super soft.”

 

“Oh that’s a nice sweater,” Tim said.

 

“I know! It makes my eyes look great.”

 

“It really does.” Tim nodded. Jason looked back and forth between his brothers trying to make sense of the conversation.

 

“What are you doing?” Cass poked through one of the doors, inquisitively looking at her brothers.

 

“Dick is on a mission to find out who ruined his sweater.” Jason pointed a thumb at him. Cass looked down a bit.

 

“Oh you found it…”

 

“Ha! Told you it wasn’t me.”

 

“Cass! You ruined my favourite blue sweater!”

 

“Blue? I took a green one…”

 

“Looks like you’re still a suspect, Jason,” Tim smirked.

 

“Wait, you ruined a different sweater?”

 

“Paint accident…” Cass smiled sheepishly.

 

“So who ruined my other sweater!” Tim rolled his eyes, really wanting to get back to his nap.

 

“Who cares? If you haven’t noticed Dick, we’re _billionaires_. Just buy a new freaking sweater!”

 

“This sweater was my favourite. I can’t just replace it. So which one of you did it.”

 

“Not me!”

 

“It wasn’t me!”

 

“Well, I didn’t do it.”

 

A stalemate then. Dick glared suspiciously at all three of them before letting out a sigh.

 

“Fine if none of you will confess... _.BRUCE!_ ”

 

“Seriously?” Jason asked, regretting ever coming to the Manor in the first place. Dick just glared at him, waiting for Bruce’s reply. Silence.

 

“Bruce! BRUCE! BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!” Cassandra and Tim covered their ears because wow Dick could yell.

 

“BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU— “

 

“Where does he keep all that air?”

 

“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuce” Dick snapped his mouth shut when Bruce finally appeared in the hallway.

 

“ _What?_ ” Bruce assessed the situation. His four eldest, no weapons, no bodily injuries. So what could possibly be the problem?

 

“Bruce, you raised a bunch of dirty liars,” Dick told him.

 

“I am aware. We are vigilantes, Dick.”

 

“Ugh, Bruce! Tell your children to stop taking my stuff. They keep ruining everything I own!” Three voices erupted at the same time.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you—”

 

“I didn’t do it!”

 

“I just want to sleep—”

 

“Quiet!” Bruce snapped, headache on its way. “What happened? _Dick_ ,” Bruce interjected before they could all start yelling at the same time, “goes first.”

 

“Alright. So after a milkless breakfast, I went and trained in the Cave for a bit. I didn’t use the showers there because Damian was showering and he uses up all the hot water and was talking even though I told him—”

 

“Get to the point, Dick.”

 

“Right so I showered upstairs and decided I would relax and get all comfy and catch up on _Jane the Virgin_ —-”

 

“Without me?” Jason looking appalled and offended.

 

“Continue, _please_ ,” Bruce said glaring.

 

“So I was looking for my favourite blue sweater so I could reach maximum comfy levels. But lo and behold, I found my sweater, which was in perfect condition last I wore it, with a gaping hole in it.”

 

“And you think one of your siblings did it?” Bruce turned to look at the rest of them who all shook their heads ‘ _No_ ’.

 

“They say they didn’t do it.”

 

“So that’s it? These criminals get to walk free? I don’t even get to figure out who did it.”

 

“It wasn’t any of us.”

 

“Maybe it was Damian.”

 

“What was me?” Damian said materializing behind them all.

 

“Did you ruin Dick’s sweater?” Damian pulled a face.

 

“As if I would ever take something from your disaster clothing profile.”  

 

“Alright.” Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dick, I’ll buy you a new sweater—”

 

“I don’t want a new sweater!”

 

“And you will all _stop arguing_ .” Bruce continued in his ‘ _this is over now_ ’ voice. He was met with half-hearted grumbles.

 

“Goodbye.” Bruce left. Was it too early to have a drink yet?

 

* * *

 

 

  


* * *

 

Technically, the argument’s time of death was 3:31 PM, and yet it was as dead as Jason Todd.

 

Every interaction between Dick, Jason, Cass, and Tim was a passive-aggressive glaring match. It was pretty much the saltiest thing Damian had ever seen.

 

“Could you turn the volume down?” Tim was typing away on his laptop, while Jason and Dick played some fighting game. Cass sat on the armchair with a bowl of grapes, texting Steph. Damian sketched away, headphones in, taking glee in his siblings’ annoyances.

 

“No. I need to hear me kicking Dick’s ass. It gives me power.” Tim paused his typing to look up at Jason, jaw clenched.

 

“You are not kicking my ass.”

 

“Really? What do you call this, then?”

 

 **_PLAYER 2 WINS_ ** read across the screen. Dick scowled and tossed his controller onto the coffee table. He reached over to grab some grapes from Cass’ bowl but she yanked it away. Dick raised an eyebrow only to be met with hard eyes, daring him to try again. Dick sighed, standing up.

 

“Are you going to the kitchen?” Tim asked.

 

“Maybe.”

“Could you grab me a snack?”

 

“Who says I’m going to the kitchen?”

 

Tim rolled his eyes, “ _If_ you’re going to the kitchen, could you bring me a snack?”

 

Dick grumbled, “Fine,” before exiting the den. He came back a few moments later, sipping his soda. He tossed a granola bar to Tim. Tim stopped and stared at the granola bar in his hand.

 

“I don’t like this one.”

 

“That’s neato.” Dick sat down on the couch again, cracking open his soda can.

 

“You _know_ I don’t like these ones.”

 

“Then maybe you should have gotten something to eat yourself, Tim.” Tim opened his mouth to retort but quickly snapped it shut again. You see, Bruce had already said the argument was over. Which meant if anyone was heard arguing again, there’d be hell to pay. Damian pulled out his headphones, gathered his things, and stood up.

 

“Where are you going, Demon Brat?” Jason asked, eyeing him warily.

 

“I, unlike you Todd, have friends. I am going to visit Jon.” That wasn’t a lie. Damian needed to step away from his siblings, so not to draw attention to himself. Frankly, it was too amusing to his siblings argue to maintain his cover for so long.

 

So here he was, in Jon Kent’s bedroom, listening and observing his siblings via state of the art spy equipment.

 

“This is weird. You know that right?” Jon lay on his stomach, swinging his legs behind him. Damian grabbed his ankle pinning it back down.

 

“Silence, Kent.”

 

“So you don’t think it’s weird you’re spying on your siblings?”

 

“I’m training you. These are important skills to have, Jon. The fact that the subjects are my moronic siblings is beside the point.”

 

“Why would I need to use secret cameras and microphones? I have _X-ray vision_ and _super hearing_.” Damian turned to glare at his friend.

 

“You have much to learn, Kent.”

 

* * *

 

“You okay, Bruce?”

 

“My children are being terrible. I can feel it, Selina.”

 

“...right…”  Bruce poured a glass of wine to the rim and downed it in one go.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that all the kids watch a bunch of soap operas because their lives are so dramatic already it's the only way they get entertainment.
> 
>  
> 
> be sure to follow me on tumblr @tamaraneankori !


	4. Local Billionaire Full of Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is super tired and Jon teaches Damian how to feel things

“Shipments have been coming in here...here...and here.”

 

“Any clue when and where the next one will be coming in.” Superman took a better look at the map Batman had pulled up.

 

“Not yet,” Batman grunted. A weapons smuggling ring had recently caught the attention of the League. Several shipments had been intercepted but more were still coming in.

 

“What’s our next move? Recon?” Batman made no reply. Clark leaned against the Batcomputer desk. Something was bothering Bruce and not just this case. “You okay Bruce?” Bruce simply pulled down his castle and rubbed his temples.

 

“M’fine, Clark.” Before Clark could respond, laughter came from the other end of the Batcave. Clark and Bruce looked over to where Diana was making slicing motions as she told some story to Jon and Damian. Jon listened eagerly, eyes wide and in awe. Damian pretended to mildly interested but was secretly just as in awe as Jon. Also, Jason was going to be so jealous.

 

Diana finished whatever Amazonian adventure she was retelling just as Alfred came down with snacks. Wonder Woman walked back over to her team members as the boys rushed to eat.

 

“Kal, I’m stealing your son. He’s mine now; I’m taking him back to Themyscira and teaching him how to be a warrior princess,” Diana proclaimed standing on the other side of Bruce.

 

“Sounds good to me. Although I’m not sure Lois will agree.”

 

“She will be a little harder to convince,” Diana nodded her head.

 

“You can have all of mine.” Bruce muttered groaning at his empty coffee cup.

 

“What’s with you?” Diana raised an eyebrow turning to Bruce.

 

“I’ve been trying to get an answer out of him all day.” Clark gave Bruce a pointed look.

 

“And I have repeatedly said I’m fine, Clark.” Diana and Clark both looked at each over Bruce’s head, with the mutual agreement that Bruce was an idiot.

 

“Bruce, you can talk or I can _make_ you talk,” Diana held up her lasso threateningly.

 

“I’ll fight you.”

 

“You can’t fight both of us, Bruce.”

 

“Watch me.”

 

“...”

* * *

  
  


* * *

 

Damian’s revenge plan was going very well. So well, in fact, he was now bored by it. Don’t get him wrong, he was still very pleased with it all. But other matters (such as the new Cheese Vikings game) took precedence. As far as Damian was concerned he had gotten his revenge sometime between Cass eating everyone’s dibbed food while making direct eye contact with them and Jason ‘accidentally’ deleting everything Tim had saved up on the DVR.

 

Still, even though Damian was no longer actively pursuing his revenge plot any longer, the effects were still lingering.

 

* * *

  


Bruce had enough of this. His children were literally going to kill him. The constant bickering over trivial things, the passive-aggressive comments, and not to mention the _glaring_ . The only one who seemed to be behaving was Damian. _Damian._  Bruce did not know what was going on and frankly, he didn’t want to. He just wanted some peace and quiet.

 

“BRUCE!”

 

Instead, he got to play judge for every little argument his children had.

 

“ _BRUCE!_ ” Maybe if he pretended some League business came up and then got Clark to fly him to the moon. There were no children on the moon. Bruce wished he lived on the moon. But he wasn’t on the moon, he was in his study and now was face-to-face with an angry Tim.

 

“Tell Cass to stop it!” Bruce resisted the urge to groan.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Nothing.” Cass came in glaring at Tim.

 

“She keeps taking all the _good pens_.”

 

“Get your own pens.” Cass crossed her arms, scowling.

 

“I did have my own pens until _you_ took them,” Tim turned to glare at his sister. Bruce remembered when Tim first came to the Manor. He was so awkward and cute. Now he was annoying and loud.

 

Parenthood was a trap.

 

“Cass, stop taking Tim’s pens. Are we done here?” The two just glared at each before huffing and exiting Bruce’s study.

 

“You could have stopped at one.” Bruce looked up at the door where Dick was shaking his head. “I was great, Bruce. And then you got greedy.”  Bruce rubbed his temples as Dick walked away.

 

“God I wish I were an alcoholic.”  

 

* * *

  


Damian was well aware his siblings were still fighting. It was a bit surprising that it had lasted this long, but he was sure someone would try to take over Gotham soon and they’d go back to being the regular amount of insufferable.

 

“Don’t you feel a little bad?”

 

Damian looked up at Jon. He was sitting crossed legged on Damian’s bed while Damian lay on his stomach making it to the next level of Cheese Vikings.

 

“No.”

 

“Not even a _little_ bit. I mean if I started a big fight between Kon and Kara, I’d feel pretty bad.”

 

“That is because you have the moral virtues of a Disney princess.”

 

“They’re your family. Families shouldn’t fight!”

 

Damian smirked, “My family fights every night.” Jon threw a pillow at Damian’s back.

 

“I meant with each other.” Damian really hated it when Jon gave him that look. It made him look like a wounded baby deer and Damian hated it but then again deer where a lot less annoying than people.

 

Before Damian could justify his lack of guilt further, there was a knock on the door.

 

“Hey, Damian.” Standing in the doorway was Lois Lane, keys in on hand, Tupperware in the other. Damian sat up straight as Jon collected his bag. “Let’s bounce, kiddo.”

 

“Bye Damian.” He ignored the doe-eyed look on Jon’s face.

 

“Good-bye Kent. Lane.”

 

“See ya later Damian.” Lois ushered Jon out the door and Damian reached for his laptop. Lane was not awful, as far as adults went. Sure Damian thought she coddled Jon at times but she was strong-willed and competent. Lois Lane was cunning and quick-witted. Also one of the only people who could win an argument with his father. And she just gave Damian an idea on how to restore the balance in his family.

 

After some preliminary research, in which Damian found that Superman saved Lois Lane _way_ too often for anyone to _not_ notice, Damian started putting his next plan together.

 

* * *

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes this chapter:  
> 1\. salty about the whole Hunter Prince thing because it is a known fact Diana loves children especially babies regardless of gender. So obviously she'd love Jon who is the cutest and most perfect child to ever exist.  
> 2\. I have not seen Justice League yet but was spoiled enough to know some BS occurred so I fixed it in my fic. I'll let you guys figure out what it was ;)  
> 3\. Lois is an amazing woman who most definitely picks up her kid before exposing underground terrorists
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @tamaraneankori


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